


The Result of Disbelief

by Dazzledfirestar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzledfirestar/pseuds/Dazzledfirestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint knows better, but that doesn't stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Result of Disbelief

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my [kink bingo card](http://dazzledfirestar.dreamwidth.org/138219.html#cutid1). Prompts: obedience/disobedience and pain. The title is from [this quote](http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/e/edwinlouis360107.html).
> 
> This relationship is entirely consensual. Clint could stop the punishment if he wanted to. I just wanted to make sure that's perfectly clear.
> 
> If consensual D/s is not your bag, you probably don't want to read this.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He had. Three whole days worth of trying, in fact. And Phil knew he wasn’t patient when it came to this. He knew! Which, yes… in retrospect that was the point. Phil wanted him to hold off for him but three days and he was crawling the walls.

Okay, he had specifically said not to come, not to touch himself until he got home and did it for him but…

His hand tugged at his rock hard cock again and he moaned. He was alone in the apartment. It was the middle of the day. It wasn’t like someone was going to walk in and find him jerking off, after all.

Phil wasn’t due home for another day anyway. He was in the clear. And the thought of their last phone call; of that tired, rough note in Phil voice telling him how he couldn’t wait to come home; telling him how he couldn’t wait to touch him. Clint groaned at the memory and stroked himself faster. He just had to release a little pressure. No harm in that.

He cried out, back arching off the bed as he came, splattering his stomach and his hand as he shook and whimpered through it. He collapsed, eyes closed, slow, shaky breaths filling his lungs. He let out a contented hum as he sank further into the covers. He could make it now. Just a little disobedience for a greater good. Phil would never even—

“You’re a mess.”

He froze, swallowing hard and not moving. Shit. Shit. It fucking figured.

“Hands and knees. Now.”

“I jus—“ He stopped and sighed as he moved. “Yes, Sir.”

“What did I tell you before I left?”

“Not to touch myself and not to come until you came home, Sir.”

“And what did you just do?”

“I…” Clint bit his lip as he listened to Phil move around the room, leaving his suit jacket on the chair by the door and going toward their toy chest. “I made myself come, Sir.”

He knew exactly what Phil was looking for and he hung his head. There was no way he could talk his way out of this. Especially not with the come still on his skin. He heard the hard slap of leather against Phil’s hand and shivered. He hated that paddle. He wasn’t a huge paddle fan in general but that one… The image of it in Phil’s hand--hard, thick, waiting for a target--made him want to fall to his knees and apologize for his complete lack of control. But that was, of course, the point.

“How many times have you come since I left?”

“J-just once. Just now, Sir.”

Phil’s hand moved over his ass, bring a shaky moan to life. The soft touch of the paddle against his skin saw Clint trying to steady his breath. “Ten then. You will count them off and you will apologize after each one. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Clint braced himself. Having to vocalize the number and the apology would force him to think and keep him from slipping into sub space. Phil knew him far too well to let that happen anyway but still. It was effective.

There was no warning, no hesitation and Clint cried out as Phil brought the paddle down across his ass. He wasn’t holding back. Clint whimpered. “One… I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry I made myself come without your permission, Sir.”

“Good.” 

The paddle came down again and Clint realized he had underestimated the strength with which Phil was wielding that thing. “Ah! T-two. I’m sorry I made myself come without your permission, Sir.”

His skin felt like it was on fire by the fifth smack. He squeezed his eyes shut and spoke through the pain. When he thought he might be slipping into the place where all this might just feel good, Phil would stop, let him catch his breath and start again. The seventh smack took his breath away and he was sure he’d be refusing seats at meetings for a week. 

His arms gave out on the last smack and he sobbed out the apology again. He shifted as Phil curled up next to him, shirt and suit pants still in place. “Are you going to listen to me next time?”

Clint nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Phil leaned in, kissing his cheek. “Go get cleaned up.”

“Yes, Sir.” Clint shivered and nuzzled Phil’s shoulder before gingerly getting up and moving toward the en suite. The cool cloth gave a little relief to the burning on his ass but he cleaned up quickly and curled back up next Phil. He snuggled up when Phil wrapped his arms around him. “I am sorry…”

“I know.” A soft kiss pressed to his temple and Clint relaxed a little more. “Next time though, wait for me.” Another kiss saw him lifting his head. “This isn’t what I had planned for tonight.”  
Clint shifted down the bed a little, nuzzling Phil’s still clothed thigh. “Can I make it up to you?”

He smiled, running a hand through Clint’s hair. “I think we can come up with something.”


End file.
